Letters and Rain
by IchatrinaObsessedSleepyGirl
Summary: Ichabod is late in returning from a mission. Possible 2nd part to follow. (Inspired from a pic Katia Winter(Katrina) posted on her Instagram the other day with her on-set wet hair)-Edit: 2nd part posted after much deliberation over my delusional Ichatrina sappiness. Rating change due to part 2.
1. Chapter 1

"Well done, Captain Crane."

With a nod, Ichabod gave the General a small smile.

"I'm just glad I could fulfill my duty, Sir."

"With these documents, the future of this war seems closer to an end."

Ichabod listened intently to the General's words. It had been an arduous journey he'd been sent on in the retrieval and delivering of the documents the General now held. To what they pertained, he knew not, only that the impact of them would land a welcomed help to their cause. His mission had taken the better part of a month and he was exhausted. The General hadn't trusted anyone to accompany him, resulting in little sleep on his part as he'd had to remain constantly aware of his surroundings. The enemy had been closing in as of late, making his nerves regarding capture all the more frayed. To make matters worse, his route home had been blocked. At every corner it seemed the enemy had an encampment, forcing him to backtrack and take a detour that delayed him by a little over a week.

"I'm sure you are tired, Captain, but I'm afraid I cannot grant you much time to rest. We'll be moving camp tomorrow."

Ichabod frowned. "To where?"

"We need to replenish our supplies. The food is low, as are the men's spirits." The General turned to face him. "We'll be moving into New York."

"New York?" He felt his heart skip a beat.

The General nodded. "Yes, more accurately, Sleepy Hollow."

At those words, only one thought filled him.

_Katrina._

"Though, I must inform you before you retire that I'm afraid we sent a letter to your wife."

Ichabod stood straighter, a sense of dread filling him. "My wife?"

The General shifted in an uncomfortable manner. "Yes, upon your failure to return in the allotted time, we feared the worst."

His heart began to beat faster as he whispered the words he was sure he didn't want the answer to. "What sort of letter did you send her?"

"I'm afraid it was a letter of condolence."

Condolence. A letter of condolence. His mind searched for a response as he felt himself begin to breathe heavily. Hyperventilate. That was the word. That's what he was doing. Hyperventilating. His Katrina thought he was dead.

Bringing a hand to his head, he blinked a few times.

"Captain Crane?"

"I need-" Reaching out for the table in front of him, he braced himself. "When did you send the letter?"

"Four days ago."

She had it. There wasn't a possible way she wouldn't have received it by now. Sleepy Hollow was a three day journey from their current location. By the time he reached her, she would have already thought him dead for days.

"I'm very sorry, Captain Crane." He paused a moment before patting Ichabod on the back. "We'll be departing in a handful of hours. You should rest."

Nodding, Ichabod wordlessly stumbled from the tent. No, he would take no rest this night. It would allude him as it certainly alluded his beloved.

* * *

Rain. Of course it would rain today. Of all days to be covered in mud from traveling, it had to be today. The last day of their journey and a slight storm had to set in, slowing them considerably.

Making his way down the street, Ichabod wiped at his eyes, his hat doing little to stop the rain from draining into them. As he paused to direct one of his comrades toward the inn, he did his best to keep himself under control. He needed to find her. Every moment he delayed was another moment she suffered.

Turning to address another soldier, his breath caught. She was standing beneath the porch of the bakery, speaking with the Reverend, seemingly waiting out the rain. Her eyes were on the ground, her stance off.

Feeling his heart pick up its pace, he took a step toward her, but was pulled out of his stare by a voice.

"Captain Crane?" Ichabod tore his eyes from his wife to look to the soldier at his side. "The inn?"

Doing his best to gather his senses and focus, Ichabod nodded. "Of course, it's..."

His eyes glanced back to the bakery, but he frowned when he found she was no longer there. A slight panic filled him. Where had she gone? Scanning the walkway that led down the street from the bakery, he felt his pulse begin to quicken as every dart of his eyes failed to find her. How had he lost her so quickly?

"Ichabod..."

Spinning around, he found her standing not ten feet from him, a disbelieving expression on her face. She was completely drenched, the rain splattering across her face and sliding down her in droves.

"Are you really here?"

Before he could answer her, she was in his arms, having vaulted herself at him. As he held her to him, her hands found their way to his face, her fingers dancing from his eyes to his nose to his lips.

"You're real."

Finally finding his words, he caught her eyes. "Yes, my love. I'm here."

A moment later her lips were crushed to his, her hands sliding into his hair as his hat had been knocked from him. As she pulled him as close as possible, he could feel her desperation, her need to ascertain that he was in fact real and here. Wanting to assure her, as well as feel every part of her, he flattened his hands across her back, pulling her fully against himself.

He'd been visualizing this moment, the moment she was in his arms once more. It had been months since he'd last seen her. Months. And for the last three days, since learning of the letter, his patience at being parted from her had vanished completely.

The clearing of a throat forced him to pull his mouth from hers, but he refused to release her from his arms. As his eyes fell on the soldier standing beside him, he realized he'd completely forgotten about the men in his company.

"I'm sorry, but...the inn, Sir?"

He attempted to speak, but his voice croaked slightly. Clearing his own throat, he nodded. "Yes, it's-it's there."

The man followed his indicated direction before tipping his head in thanks and moving away, the other men following him.

Turning back to Katrina, he found her eyes darting over his entire person, taking in his soaked self.

"My love?"

Her eyes shot to his, blinking rapidly to keep the rain from them.

"I don't understand. The letter...it said-it said you were..."

Her words fell away as a sob escaped her. Taking her hand in his, he led her toward the walkway. Upon attaining shelter, he turned back to her, his hands reaching up to push her wet hair from her face before cupping her neck, his thumbs stroking along her jaw line.

"I am so sorry, my love. It's my fault. I took too long in returning from a mission and they assumed and I...Katrina, I..."

"I thought you were dead," she whispered. "I thought you were gone forever."

Leaning his forehead to hers, he released a shaky breath. "No, my love. I'm here."

Her hand reached up to lay against his cheek. "Don't ever do that again. Don't ever leave me, Ichabod. I won't survive."

As she spoke, her voice cracked, tears streaming down her face.

Wiping them away, he closed his eyes. "I'm so sorry."

"Are you home?"

He sighed. "We'll be camped here for a few days to replenish our supplies."

"Can you-Can you stay with me?"

Catching her eyes, he noticed her desperate hope, and promised, "Nothing could keep me from you." Lightly brushing his lips over hers, he whispered. "Let's go home, my love."

With a nod, she conjured a small smile as he slid a hand down to claim hers. Stepping back out into the rain, he finally allowed the cloud of darkness that had been hovering over him slip away, content to simply be with his beloved.

**This may or may not have a second part. It was originally almost 5,000 words, but we shall see...**


	2. Chapter 2

Upon entering their home, he found it to be darker than normal. The curtains were drawn, blocking the sun, well what little sun was shining this day. Bending to remove his muddy boots and socks, he set them by the door. When he turned back to her, he found her staring at him as though she were seeing a ghost.

"Katrina?"

Her eyes jumped to his, a startled expression on her face. "I-I keep thinking you're a dream and that you're not really here."

Reaching for her hand, he brought it to his heart so she could feel it beating against his chest.

"I'm here, my love."

Tears streaming down her cheeks, her face crumbled as she collapsed against him, her hands tangling in his shirt.

"I thought you were dead."

Arms wrapping tightly around her, he laid his chin atop her head. "I'm so sorry."

She pulled back to look up at him. "You can't leave me. You can't ever leave me."

Gently cupping her face, he leaned into her. "Katrina-"

"No, you can't. I won't let you." She struggled for a breath. "I never want to feel that way again. I wanted to die. I wanted to be with you."

Heart in his throat, he closed his eyes as she sobbed. "We're together, now. That's all we're promised, my love."

She shook her head. "No, it's not. I won't let it be."

Finding her eyes again, he frowned at the desperate determination he saw in them. "My love-"

Without warning, her lips were on his, taking him completely by surprise. After a moment of scrambling to regain his senses, he attempted to pull her closer, but she parted from him, leaving him confused. That is, until she grabbed his hand and led him to the sitting room to stand before the hearth.

"Can you...?" she asked, indicating the hearth.

He nodded quickly. "Of course. You must be freezing." They were both soaked to the bone.

As he went about lighting a fire, he threw a few logs on to add heat to it. His task completed, he turned to her and felt his breath catch as she pushed her last article of clothing from her shoulders, leaving her completely bare before him.

Eyes trailing down her glistening form, he swallowed hard, his body rooted to the spot as she stepped close to him.

"Show me you're really here." Her hands began slipping the buttons of his shirt through their openings. "Love me, Ichabod."

Unable to form a proper response, he, instead, did as she asked. Leaning down, he began a slow trail of kisses along her neck and jaw line, his hands sliding into her damp hair.

At the end of his shirt, she swiftly pulled it from his trousers, her hands now able to slide along his chest creating small prickles over him from her cold fingertips.

As he gently nipped at her shoulder, she arched her neck into him, dragging her lips along his cheek.

"Ichabod..."

The breathless whisper that escaped her was followed by her hands falling to his trousers, immediately pushing them from him. Once they were kicked aside, he wasted no time in pulling her body into his, their now bare skin flush against each other. Greedily, his hands journeyed down her body and he was forced to suck in a shaky breath at how wonderfully soft she was.

Unable to help himself, he firmly gripped her waist, pulling her lower body into his as his mouth hungrily ventured down her chest to her heaving breasts. Gently encircling one in his lips, he felt her hands fall to his neck and hair respectively as he kneaded her other breast with his palm, paying little mind to her fingers as she undid his band to free his mess of wet hair.

Glancing up to catch her eyes, he reluctantly released her from his mouth as he fell to his knees, his lips immediately finding her abdomen to place a trail of kisses from her belly button to her hip. When her hands slid into her his now free hair, he smoothly pulled her down to settle in front of him before guiding her back on the rug before the dancing flames of the hearth.

Its light cast a gentle glow over her form and he felt his heart constrict at her still damp cheeks. With care, he brought a hand up to tenderly wipe away her tears before leaning close to her, his lips dragging along her brow, her eyelids, cheeks, and chin.

"I've never felt as enraptured with anyone as I do you, my love. You're so beautiful, so loving. I want to stay in this moment with you forever." Each rise and fall of her chest brushed against his, her softness setting what felt like his very soul on fire. "I love you, Katrina."

Her breath hitched as she brought a hand up to rest at his neck. "Show me."

Needing no further prodding, he dropped his mouth to hers, teasing her lips with his tongue until she parted them for him. Eagerly delving into her warmth, he sighed into their kiss as his hand slid down her smooth hip to grip her thigh and pull it up against his side.

Her fingers, still cold against the skin of his shoulder, prompted him to pull back and reach for them. After running his own over them in inconceivable adoration, he began placing soft kisses along her fingertips, knuckles, and palm.

Eventually, the need to see her prompted him to glance up and he found her eyes trained on his lips as they continued to caress her fingers. After a moment, they found their way to his and caught. The depth behind her green orbs was something he never tired of gazing into. Threading his fingers through hers, he shifted his body, maneuvering himself between her parted thighs.

The sharp breath she inhaled when his hardened desire pressed against her center only fueled his need for her.

"Ichabod..."

When her body shook slightly, he curiously glanced up at her to find her once more silently weeping. Worriedly leaning back over her, he gently slid his hand along her cheek.

"Katrina..."

"I'm sorry. I can't stop."

Running his fingers along the corner of her eyes, he sighed in regret. "I've done this to you."

"No," she quickly breathed out. "I just...I laid in our bed for three days refusing to believe it was real, that I was alone again, that I'd never hear your voice whispering your love, your hands touching me so... I refused to accept it." Her eyes fell from his to focus on their fingers still threaded together. "Then, the Reverend came and forced me out. He told me I had to let you go, that you wouldn't want me that way."

Unable to take her trembling body any longer, he laid himself fully flush to her, his head burying in her neck while his fingers tangled in her mass of red hair.

"Tell me what to do, my love. I'll do anything."

Her fingers fell to his neck to pull his gaze back to her. Glistening eyes dancing over his every feature, she softly whispered, "Stay with me."

Regret filled him. "You know I can't."

Another sob escaped her. "Ichabod, please, don't leave me." She was going to break him. To refuse her anything was nearly impossible.

Dragging his fingers down her cheek, he did his best to conjure the right words to comfort the beautiful creature he so treasured beneath him. "Katrina, you don't really want that. I know you don't. You're always stating how important my role in this war is."

Her eyes fell closed as she turned her face from him only to re-open them and gaze into the hearth. The glow of the flames dancing in her green eyes completely mesmerized him.

"I don't have to leave you alone."

A frown swept over her features as she looked back to him. "You just said you had to."

Desperately trying to find his courage, he broached an old issue between them. "I could give you a piece of me."

It was but a moment before her frown disappeared to be replaced with barely concealed agitation.

"No."

Feeling his heart sink at yet another refusal, he dropped his eyes from hers, allowing his gaze to rest on the freckles dotting her collarbone.

Silence fell between them, the only movement in the room being that of the flames dancing across their naked forms.

He didn't understand why she was so determined to refuse them a child, a piece of them. Every other man in his regiment who had the blessing of a wife constantly boasted of their beloved filled with their offspring. If this war had brought anything, it was the desperation to see a piece of one's self surviving. But not him. Katrina flat refused to even consider allowing it, which never failed to befuddle him. While most of the other men in his regiment did, in fact, have wives, none of them seemed to even come close to having what he had with her. His love for Katrina, and hers for him, was something unique. It went beyond the norm. Their connection was unlike anything he'd ever experienced. This knowledge combined with her rejection of the prospect of a child with him often created an anger that burned deep within him. Though, he never revealed it in the slightest.

Her hand slid to his cheek and he knew she wanted his eyes back on hers, but she wasn't the only one who could refuse her love.

"Ichabod." Clenching his jaw, he felt his chest tighten as he made the effort to conceal his building frustration. "Please."

Not wanting to give into the quiet pleading in her voice, but unable to stand her hurt, he finally allowed his eyes to find hers. The agitation she'd bore earlier was gone, now replaced with a generous amount of sympathy and regret.

"I'm so sorry."

"No, you're not," he bit out.

Slight surprise filled her eyes as she frowned. "Yes, I am. I know how much you want this, but-"

"But you've spoken and that's the end of it, correct?"

The degree of resentment in his voice clearly reached her understanding as her frown deepened.

"We make decisions together, Ichabod. We always have."

The urge to roll his eyes and throw his hands up entered him, but he restrained himself. "This is not a decision we made together, but one that you've made for us." Huffing, he removed her hand from his face. "Is that why you married me, Katrina? So you could control everything? You knew I was too in love with you to refuse you anything."

Her eyes showed shock as she spoke. "That's ridiculous, Ichabod. You know how much I love you."

"Abraham would have already had a child from you."

An overwhelming amount of hurt registered in her features before she roughly shoved at his shoulders, removing herself from beneath him and grabbing a small blanket from the chair to cover herself. As she stood, he had the urge to reach for her, but when she turned to face him, he found contempt plastered in her every feature.

"You're right. Abraham would have had a child from me by this point." Utter confusion filled him. "He would have forced it and I would have hated him and resented that child. I would have prayed for his death, for my freedom." Her stern facade slightly cracked. "Don't you ever say anything like that to me ever again."

Turning on her heel, she left him there, completely bare and alone before the dancing hearth.

For a while, he simply sat there, doing his best to understand how they'd gotten to this place. For days, all he'd wanted was to be with her, to ensure her that he was alive and safe. Finding her so distraught had nearly crippled him and the prospect of making love to her had overwhelmed his every sense.

Closing his eyes, he sighed. He shouldn't have brought it up. It never led to anything but arguments between the two of them.

Doing his best to find some courage, he stood and made his way to the stairs, not even bothering with his clothing.

Upon entering their room, he noticed she'd lit the hearth in the corner, its light dancing in the darkness casting shadows about. When his eyes fell to their bed, he found her with her back to the door. She was curled into his pillow, her body on his side of their bed. Regret for the suffering his beloved endured while he was away filled him. He'd found her many times like this, sleeping in his place in his absence, searching for any scent of him.

Hesitantly making his way toward her, he stopped at the bed's edge, unsure if she would even allow him to sleep beside her. He considered asking, but then halted that thought in its track. This was his room as well. He shouldn't have to ask to sleep in his own bed. Then again, to simply lay down with her might spark her temper and any more rejection from her this night would surely cripple him.

After a moment of his standing stone still in deep contemplation, she lifted the covers behind her signaling her consent.

With a relieved sigh, he slid in behind her, cautiously wrapping his arms around her waist. As he adjusted himself against her, he placed a gentle kiss to the back of her neck.

"Forgive me, my love." She didn't answer, prompting another sigh from him. "I didn't mean to upset you." More silence. "I won't ask again, I promise. If you don't want a child with me, then I shouldn't try to force you. We can just...You're all I need."

Her body tensed against him before she turned in his arms, her eyes catching his. "You think I don't want a child with you?"

Shrugging, his eyes once again fell to the freckles along her collarbone. That is, until she shifted so close to him that her breasts were flush against him, her hand stroking his cheek.

"I think about it all the time, dream about it even. I can see so clearly a little boy, a beautiful son. Blue eyes. Talkative, intelligent, and playful." His gaze returned to hers. "A perfect combination of the two of us. The product of our love." A tear escaped her, prompting him to reach up and gently remove it. "I want him so desperately I can't breathe at times."

"Then why can't we have him?"

"Because of what happened four days ago." He couldn't help his confusion. "Ichabod, I thought you were dead."

"We've been married for years, Katrina. Six, if you've bothered to count. I've asked at least a dozen times."

A sad smile crossed her face. "And in these six years, I've lived with the constant fear of your being taken from me. That fear has now been realized."

"But I'm not dead," he answered, desperately trying to follow her thoughts.

"Only by the grace of God."

"Katrina, you're making little sense."

This time it was her eyes that fell. "I don't want to raise a child without you."

Understanding finally filled him. "My love-"

"No, Ichabod. We can't."

He sighed, glad to finally have a method to reason with. "Yes, Katrina, we can." Sliding a hand beneath her chin, he made sure he had her eyes. "We can."

"And if something happens to you, to me? Perhaps even both of us? What of our child, then? He or she would become an orphan, Ichabod. Who would care for him or her? Your parents have disowned you. My mother is dead. My father...his only concern is my step-mother and I would never condemn a child as beloved as ours would be to suffer the way I did as a girl. Neither of us have siblings. Tell me, Ichabod. Who would care for our orphaned child?"

He understood her reasoning, he truly did, but it simply wasn't good enough for him."So you've decided to never take a chance? To never reach for your dreams? All because of fear that something _may_ happen?"

"Nothing you can say will change my mind."

The steely determination in her eyes would have usually stopped him, but he wasn't letting it drop this time. "You'd rather suffer alone? Be alone?"

Sighing, she brought a hand to her eyes. "Ichabod-"

"I would want a piece of you, a part of you to always have. If something were to happen to you, I'm positive a bullet wouldn't be far from my head."

Her hand fell to his neck as a frown creased her features. "Don't say that."

"The only thing that would stay my hand would be you. A child with you, Katrina. It would save me from going mad with grief."

"You would recover with time."

His eyes narrowed. "And you? Do you think you would recover with time? That your pain would lessen and you would no longer mourn me? You said you wanted to die."

"I felt as if I wanted to, but I wouldn't have actually harmed myself."

Sighing in frustration, he begged as a last resort. "Please, my love. Please just..."

Her face crumbled as she shook her head. "No."

"Any other woman would give me what I want," he bit out resentfully.

"Any other woman would not have loved you the way I do!"

Rolling to his back, he stared at the shadows being cast from the hearth dancing across the ceiling. "You should have told me."

"Told you what?"

"That you wouldn't give me children. You should have told me before we married."

He heard her swallow as her breath hitched. "Why? Would you not have married me?"

"It just would have been nice to know. I abhor secrets and you're apparently full of them."

"I have duties, just as you do. I'm...different from other women, Ichabod. I don't want my role in this war to cause our child to be neglected."

She didn't speak again for a few moments and he honestly didn't care. Nothing she could say would lessen his anger. Add to it her pause at the use of the word 'different' and it made him feel as if she were being less than honest with her reasoning.

"After the war-"

He sat up and turned to her, his frustration escaping him. "There might not be an after the war for us, Katrina!"

"Then, why does it matter so much to you so much?" Her hand reached for his. "I swear, Ichabod, if we survive this war, I will give you as many children as you want."

Her assurance was doing nothing for him. "No."

A frown came to her face. "What-"

"You're saying that because you know it won't happen." He jerked his hand from her. "This war isn't going to end any time soon." Fixing her with a glare, he whispered. "Stop trying to placate me."

She fell back to the bed with a sigh. "Why did you have to do this, now?" Her eyes fell closed. "All I wanted was to be with you. To know that you were alright, that you were real." A chuckle that sounded quite resentful left her. "I suppose an argument is as real as anything."

He stared at her as she shook her head slightly. "That's quite a trick, my love."

Her gaze found him. "What?"

"You're trying to make me feel guilty." His eyes narrowed. "I don't."

Clenching her jaw, she sat up abruptly. "Why would I have a child with you when you're still so clearly one, yourself!?"

His anger burst. "At least I'm not letting fear stop me from living!" He pointed a finger at her. "You would rather refuse us a child than face the fear that something may happen one day in the unforeseeable future. It's absurd, Katrina!"

She shook her head and moved to speak, but he stopped her by speaking first.

"Life is precious, Katrina. You told me that the day we met. We're not promised forever. Death will come for us all. Why won't you let us live?"

Seemingly at a loss for words, her eyes darted around. Seeing this as an opportunity, he shifted closer to her, sliding his hand to her face and leaning his forehead to hers.

"Please, just...consider it. That's all I ask, my love." Gently, he brushed his lips over hers. "Please."

Her eyes fell closed as her hand clasped over his tightly. "Ichabod..."

"You don't have to agree with me. All you have to do is, at the very least, consider thinking about it. Is that really so much for me to ask of you?"

For a moment, she was still and he was sure he'd have to further his plea, but then she released a shaky breath and nodded.

"Alright."

Shocked, he pulled back from her, sure he'd heard her wrong. "Alright?"

"I'll consider it." She caught his stare. "But I'm not promising I'll change my mind, at least not anytime soon."

Knowing he wasn't going to acquire a better answer, he leaned into her, his mouth seeking hers. The sharp gasp that left her told him she wasn't expecting this turn of events.

As he guided her back to their bed, she turned her head to the side, but he wasn't to be stopped as his lips immediately found her neck, nipping and sucking at it fiercely.

"Ichabod..." A breathless moan fell from her lips at a particular bite from him. "I thought you were angry."

"I am," he muttered between kisses.

"Then..." Her words died off as his hand found its way down her body.

Pulling up to catch her eyes, he sighed, never ceasing his fingers ministrations. "For days, this is all I've thought about. I need to be with you."

Eyes fluttering, she gave what appeared to be a nod as her hand slid to his neck pulling him back down to her. Minutes flew by as they reacquainted their selves with the other's body. He reveled in the fact that her every caress, every sound, every smell was forever burned into his memory.

When they finally connected completely, her body clung around him almost desperately, the nails of her fingers scraping along his scalp.

Adjusting himself to where he could catch her eyes, he kept up a steady rhythm, observing her reactions to him.

"I love you."

At his declaration, her hand tightened in his hair as she pulled him closer to her. An array of emotions passed over her face as the sounds of their heavy breathing and skin sliding against each other filled the room.

Minutes passed before everything began to blur before him as he felt himself beginning to lose his control. The feel of her warmth encircling him was pulling all his willpower to maintain it. Her hand not in his hair dug into his back, her nails surely drawing blood.

"Stay."

So low was her whisper, he nearly missed it. Jerking his eyes back to hers, he questioned, "What?"

"Stay with me."

Still confused and almost at the point of no return in his movements, he barely was able to breathe out, "I don't-"

"Give me a piece of you."

Quite unable to believe what he'd just heard, his head fell to her neck as his movements became erratic. When her body contracted even further around him signaling her end, he did his best to try to sort through his thoughts, but he was entirely too far gone. As always at this point, he began to pull from her, but her hands dug even further into him holding him in place.

"Katrina..." His end flooded through him uncontrollably as he clung to her.

As his body collapsed over hers in exhaustion, her hand began gently stroking through the hair at the nape of his neck as her lips ghosted along his neck and shoulder.

Gaining some semblance of working thoughts, he considered what had just occurred.

"Katrina-"

"It's alright."

Lifting his head to catch her eyes, he searched for an explanation, but found her face unreadable.

"I don't understand. You said..."

Her fingers danced along his cheek. "I love you."

He frowned. "I know, but-"

His words fell away as she reached for something on the bedside table. When she brought it close, he noticed it was a letter.

"I never want to receive something like this again without the knowledge that I'll still be able to have you." Her eyes caught his. "Or at least a piece of you."

Beyond confused, he asked, "But what about all the reasons you gave? You seemed quite determined to not allow this."

"When you were making love to me, I thought about the fact that this could be it, the last time we are ever like this. Ichabod... I'm so weak and scared...of everything. I try so hard to keep up a facade of bravery, but it's just a lie. This war has taken so much...It's not taking this."

For a moment, he was quite unsure what to say. This was not a scenario he'd imagined happening this night. "I-Are you sure?"

A smile crept into her features. "The thought that we might have just created a baby is quite possibly one of the happiest thoughts I've ever had."

At her words, he felt his own smile form.

Lips brushing over hers, he whispered, "Then, perhaps we should continue and make that 'might' a 'for sure.'"

"Aren't you tired?" Despite her words, her hands fell to his neck to pull him even closer. "You travelled all day, through pouring rain no less."

With a shake of his head, his mouth drug down her jaw line. "I'm never tired when it comes to you, my love."

**I nearly didn't post this part because I wanted this story to remain a sweet little snip it in time. However, I kept thinking about it and thinking about it and changing it and changing it, until I finally decided to just go ahead. I hope it was enjoyable and didn't take away from the other part too much.**

**Thanks for reading :)**


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